Censors

THERE we are, the censors, sitting in a dark room like a host of worried angels.

We keep stealing glances in God’s direction (even though we are not quite sure where that direction is), with sad eyes: wasn’t God too optimistic about humans when He decided to create these troublesome creatures? Didn’t He stop to think that humans would spread filth over the face of the earth?

We censors are worried. Really worried. God once said this worry

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